In Which Georgia Encourages You To Get Drunk And Date

I Might Practice Santeria Once I’ve Had A Few Sangrias

by Georgia Hardstark

On a recent girls-night-out (yes guys, we have those and yes, we talk about you), my close friend, who we’ll call K, was reporting back from a first date with a guy who, before this date, seemed to have a lot of promise.

Besides him being cute and having an interesting job, K and this guy had hit it off upon meeting through friends at a bar. After a few email exchanges, plans were made to meet at a local coffee house. The verdict? “Well,” she told us over pint glasses of murky beer, “we just didn’t have much to talk about.” “Oh,” we all echoed disappointingly.

K is an awesome girl, and it had been too long since a guy of equal caliber had taken her out and shown her a good time. We all thought this new guy was a shoo-in. What went wrong?

They had both shown up to the coffee house (a swanky Silver Lake spot) on their vintage Schwinn fixed-gears, I’m sure she looked adorable in some sort of designer-yet-casual get-up, and they had sat in the outside patio drinking expensive lattes hoping, I’m sure, to capture that same connection they had experienced upon first meeting. But it didn’t happen.

I can has improved social chemistry?

We all puzzled over it for a moment, hoping to use our collective successes and failures at dating in order to dispense some sage advice to K. I was the first to speak; “Uhhh, maybe you guys just needed to get drunk?” was my bit of wisdom.

I didn’t think it’d be well received, but to my surprise, the lovely M retorted with a spirited “yeah!” I was glad to hear I wasn’t the only one who thought of alcohol as a necessary means of getting through those first few, nervous dates.

“OMG you are HOT! I think?”

I’m a social person by nature, I always have been. Unfortunately, I also have a tendency to get overexcited and little spastic, which leads to extreme self consciousness, which in turn leads to me to forcing myself to sit quietly as to not embarrass myself.

Just as you might notice what he or she wore, what kind of car they drove, or if they have a tramp stamp, the type of drink a person orders tells a lot about them, too. My rule of thumb is; if a guy orders anything with cranberry juice in it, or anything pink for that matter. OK, hell, anything with any kind of mixer other than Coke (and I mean regular coke, not diet), then it’s probably not going to work out. In the same vein, if a girl orders a pint of beer, a whiskey on the rocks, or an Irish car bomb, marry her.

There’s something about drinking alcohol, not even the “getting drunk” part (although that does come into play), but the actual act of drinking alcohol, which relaxes me and makes me feel more cool and collective. Is this alcoholism? I don’t know, but I don’t think so. What I believe it to be is “social lubrication”, and it’s a necessity for me when I’m dating someone new…someone I really like.

The first thing that makes drinking a necessity when dating is that it’s something to do. How much do you hate that “what do you want to do?” ”I don’t know, what do you want to do” back and forth that you have with someone when you don’t know them very well? A good answer to that question is “Let’s go have a pint at Red Lion” or “How about margaritas at El Coyote?”

See? You’ve immediately indicated that a) you’re a take-charge kinda girl or guy, and b) you’re ready to have an intimate conversation with this person, which as we all know, is what normally happens when you drink with someone.

Georgia knows the drunker she is, the cuter her date gets.

A girl I know – let’s call her “me” – is dating a new guy, one whom she really likes. While driving home from a party (which would have counted as their 3rd or 4th date) Sublime came on the radio. Being somewhat intoxicated, (don’t worry, I…*ahem* she wasn’t driving) an excited and heartfelt solo sing-along ensued.

Do you think the excuse of “but I’m from Orange County!” the next morning when relaying this mortifying experience to her friends would have sufficed? No, it would not. But! “I was drunk!” worked just fine. In fact, the drunken Sublime sing-along turned out to actually be endearing to this guy! Can you believe it?!

Sublime = That’s when things got out of control!

Drinking in the beginning is a necessity is that it gives you a handicap. Did you tell him about the time you got pants-ed in fifth grade? Did he lean in for kiss and spill beer on your jeans? Did he pull his own finger and fart?

Let’s just say you have a lot of leeway when it comes do doing and saying embarrassing things while drinking, way more that if you did those things while sober. An added bonus is that telling that guy or girl things about your childhood which you wouldn’t normally share without first imbibing in some spirits, makes them feel closer to you.

For my third, I’d like to first request that my dad stop reading this. That’s right, Marty. See that little red “x” at the top-right of this page? Click it. Do it now, or we’ll both regret it for life.

No really dad, stop reading right now!

Okay, now that I’m without parental supervision…ummm, drunk sex? Possibly the most awesome thing ever! Guys, you know that embarrassing straight-edge tattoo on your back that you got in high school? Or that mole that looks strikingly like a third nipple? Or your insistence on leaving your socks on during sex?

And ladies, you know how your ass jiggles a little too much when you’re unclothed? Or how much bigger your right boob is than your left when you’re not wearing a bra? Or those sounds you make in the middle of an orgasm that make you sound like you’re bat-shit crazy?

All those things are waaaaay less noticeable when you’re drunk, which is why it’s so hard for some people to have sober sex in the beginning of a relationship. Follow my advice, and those creepy bedroom habits of yours won’t be noticed until you’re a couple month into the relationship, which if you’re doing everything else right, he or she will be too smitten with you by then to dump you.

I am so glad you linked to this in today’s post, which also ruled; I feel as though the metaphorical soundtrack to drunk sex is, like, 70’s-era Rolling Stones, whereas the metaphorical soundtrack to sober sex (especially early in the relationship, not that I’m easy and give it up early…cough cough cough…hey guys GET MODERN!) is more like Philip Glass or, like, the light clinking of silverware.